


Burn the Ashes

by leavemetothewolves



Series: Peterick Drabbles [1]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:05:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leavemetothewolves/pseuds/leavemetothewolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It could lead to sunny days and rainy nights, to tour bus windows and the continuous country side that rolled past. It could lead to all these things and more, or it could burn to ashes, fading away in the wind in a wave of cigarette smoke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not have homework I should be working on so I don't have to do it over the weekend.
> 
> Ah well.
> 
> Unbeta'd 2AM rambling.
> 
> Fluffy pillow talk, confessions, and far too much use of any synonym of the word maybe.

“Tell me a secret and I’ll tell you a lie.” 

The words form next to his ear, a faint whisper in the morning chill, as the light filters through the blinds and onto the white sheet. They’re pressed together, a tangle of arms and legs and skin, and Patrick thinks he finally knows the true definition of content. 

“Why? You already know all my secrets, idiot.” Patrick mumbles, wiggling a little so he sinks a bit deeper into the mattress.

“Mmm…no I don’t.” Pete hums this next part as his presses his forehead into Patrick’s shoulder. “You’re a very mysterious man, Patrick Stump.” 

Patrick snorts at this. “And you’re the persuasive one who got me to tell you them all, asshole.” 

“So persuasive that you’ll tell me your deepest, darkest, blackest secret?” 

“…Okay.” He feels Pete smile against his shoulder, and racks his brain for an answer. 

“I’m in love with my best friend.”

“That’s a secret? Wait – hey! You can’t just push me out of bed, I could’ve died!” 

“Yes, with all the crazy shit you do, you’re going to die falling out of a hotel bed.” 

“I could have. Then where would you be? No lyrics, no bassist, no boyfriend?”

“I’m sure I could have managed.” Pete pressed himself even farther into Patrick, which he was certain wasn’t possible, but Pete was kind of a miracle worker that way. 

“You won’t ever have to.” Patrick ignored the twinge in his chest and pokes his index finger into Pete’s side.

“You still owe me a lie.”

Pete rolls over and stares at Patrick, scanning his face. “You’re not beautiful,” he start. Patrick blushes and opens his mouth to say something, but Pete cuts him off. “No, I’m not finished.” He fumbles for a second before getting both his elbows underneath him and tossing his head so his hair is out of his eyes. “You’re not beautiful and I don’t love you. Your eyes aren’t the prettiest blue I’ve ever seen before and you’re also not the only one who actually gets me. I don’t love your hats or your voice, you don’t look smoking hot in leather, and I can’t stand your bitchiness. You’re not my soulmate, ‘Trick, and you never will be.” Patrick’s throat starts to close up and those might be tears pricking behind his eyes, but if he has anything to say about it, they will not be making an appearance this early in the morning, n matter how cheesy Pete got. 

“And I totally did not steal the last cookie from the jar downstairs.” 

Pete may or may not get a pillow to the head for that confession, and that pillow may or may not lead to retaliation, which leads to kissing, and, in time, Pete’s breathy moans in his ear. It could lead to hands held underneath tables and hasty kisses backstage. It could lead to sunny days and rainy nights, to tour bus windows and the continuous country side that rolled past. It could lead to all these things and more, or it could burn to ashes, fading away in the wind in a wave of cigarette smoke.


End file.
